THE PASSING SHOW.
I (By THE MAN ABOUT TOWN.) What will be remembered about Bishop Cleary, apart from his intellectual brilliance, his remarkable humanity and his nndenomtional kindness, will be FISHERS OF MEW. the spirit of adventure and pioneering that distinguished him. Ho liked to be in things and he could hardly be restrained from fully sharing tne perils of the trenches in the Great War. Mentioned among the boys that he had his steel lat badly bashed in the front line. Everybody knows how keen he was to take a motor car where none had ever been before, to fly wh/en flying was newer than it is now, to take uincanonical risks generally and to glory in them. When Cardinal Ceretti came to New Zealand that distinguished prelate went with a patrty of which Bishop Cleary was one on a fishing excursion to Taupo. The cardinal was provided with a rod and the necessary gear. He made a cast. Instantly he pulled out a splendid trout. The accompanying pressmen watched Itim keenly, thinking that here was a fishermaai of great distinction. The cardinal fished sedulously. While the others toiled all day and oaugrit nothing the great prelate gathered in a "stupendous bag. All hands congratulated "him on his remarkable skill. Dr. Cleary was- warm in his congratulations. The cardinal smiiled. "I have the dickens of a luck," said he, "for I have never had a rod in my hand before." The railways of any country are a licensed subject for jest, although New Zealand settlers often treat tihe subject earnestly. For instance, Mr. Sterling, the general EFFICIENCY. manager, was the other day in Waiuku discussing the matter (of the branch line. And on that
occasion a safctder said, "What we want on the railways is a dictator, a Mussolini. I say a Mussolini couldi save millions, say, five millions. I don't know /what Mr. Sterling will say, but he will believte me, I know!" This evident desire for efficiency and more efficiency reminds a wag of a '.railway story, not, of course, applicable to UTew Zealand. One of the public strolled about a. country platform endeavouring to interest officials in a case consigned to him and lying on tiic loading bank. He mentioned the case to a gentleman in uniform. "Oh, you'd better bi \ing it over here and get it weighed." "I can't bring it; it's too heavy," said the consignee. "You'd better see the stationmaster," ,said the official. He saw the stationmaster. '"Just tell a porter," said the stationmaster, amd went on chewing a pencil. "I've told him," said the consignee, and wandered out. Suddenly he saw a man coming briskly down thi3 platform whistling a jazz tune. The light .of pure intelligence shone on his countenance. He saw that the consignee looked worried. '"Anything I can do for you, 3ir?" he said, and smiled. "Yes, I wish you'd help me about that case. I want to take it iway." The smiling official went briskly about ;he business, whiidi he transacted efficiently ind without loss <>f time. The consignee was yverjoyed. "You seem to be the only man
here with a spark about you; I'm awfully obliged to you," hi; said. "The other officials " "Oh," said the brisk man, "I ain't a regular official; I'm a plumber by trade. I'm only on here relieving."
A local golf d'.ub lias a caddies' match every year and tha members like to give the lads the best of chances. On such-an occasion one of the caddies was COMING wandering about disconCHAMPION, solate, a dark expression
on Ms young brow. A [member said, "Helflo, Shorty! Going in for the caddies' match!?" "No! 'Aven't got a club." Tiie member dug him up one. "Have you got a ball?" aj ked the member. "No!" aaid Shorty. The member got him two. "What about a penci'l and a score card; have you got them?" "No!" said Shorty. He was supplied. "Now is t there anything else you haven't got?" asked the gentleman. "Yes!"
growled Shorty. "I 'aven't got a bloomiiv chanst!"
A cherished correjrpondent writes from a , place of considerable remoteness: "We have been in the throes of a tangi. I walked down to the meeting house and BIG PETER. sqw a perfectly harmless o\i Maori gentleman; he was walking up and donvn waving a stick and looking positively ferocious. In private life Big Peter is a prefecUy quiet man and a stupendous worker. Ho has been up in the bush for months and montlis, where he has pitsawn every board for thai meeting house. The pile of firewood he has , cut against the tangi and for future tangis is terrific. There is about as much 'taihoa* about Big Peter as there is in a modern steam sawmill. Among his Maori brethren he raves • and shakes his stick about the wrongs of tie Maoris, exhorting them to claim and hold tiheir lands, but when ho meets the pakeha ladiias on road or in bus he shyly raises his hat ajnd smiles winningly. Bather an enigma, a dear,, harmless old working savage, at heart a perfect gentleman. How he does curse (and love) tShe pakeha!" "C.T.P." is interested sin Gloucester, from which ancient city the Governor-General designate is to come to Nei.y Zealand: "I was born ffi Hereford, and one OLD GLOUCESTER.fine day in August, 18S0, I tramped the twentyeight miles to Gloucester.. I stood on the Cross by the G.P.O. which looks down on Eastgate, Westgate, Northgate. and Southgate Streets. I was there again: in 1925, and my niece, who was born there, remarked laughingly that each of the roads led ;to gloomy "places, one to the gaol, one to the cemetery, one to the workhouse and one to th<; mental hospital. I am glad you mentioned B; Baikes. I have looked on his monument, aijfi if ever a poor lad had cause to abuse and. stane his monument it M 7 as this poor writer. Uniler pain of cruel punishment I had to attend Sunday school twice every Sunday and cjiapel at night. Heavens, how I hated it! .1 took the bit in my teeth at last and clearo d out, and, like Cain of old, became a wanderer on the face of the earth. I note you did not inform us that a bishop whose name I forget was burnt at the stake in Gloucester. A nionuma nt stands there to mark the spot where he perished (poor wretch!)." • ■ ■ ' ,
It lias heretofore been insisted herein that the public scribbler should dally and hourly exercise care, as newspapers nqver die. Dogeared andbroken-backed APOLOGY. paragraphs' perpetrated a century ago. are quite frequently dug up from old drawers, old pocket books, old pigeon holes. Here's another lease of life to an advertisement published in Blenheim in 1894. It has been resctl ed from dust and microbes: "Chow Shum Mr. W. J. Gett an apology for his wrongdoing and mismanagement of the business, b» it Mr. W. J. Gett considers a warm friendship should never be departed from, and as Chow Sit um asks that he still be allowed to be conneol'-.ed with the firm, Mr. W. J. Gett has grantjed him that favour, although he considers 'Chow Shum wants more sense. However, as Chow Shum has promised to be more sensible a fresh arrangement has been entered inl o and Chow Shum will still be connected with the firm as general merchants—Signed, W. J. <Gett : Chow Shum."
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Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 292, 10 December 1929, Page 6
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1,242THE PASSING SHOW. Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 292, 10 December 1929, Page 6
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